Justice
by altairattorney
Summary: Kira is a tremor. One of the occasional fevers that swamps their world, and claims them in small handfuls.


**Justice**

* * *

To say that nothing is true is to realize that the foundations of our society are fragile, and that we must be the shepherds of our own civilization.  
 _Assassin's Creed Revelations_

* * *

 _I. power_

Humans are many things. Above all, they are forgetful.

What can their direction be, if they lost the beginning? Humans are limited. They had a dawn of time, phases, changes – they are never the same. The smartest of them know they'll come to an end. And yet, with the whole depth of their limits, they ignore them all the same.

Yes, they are dreamy, bizarre creatures. They wouldn't be, probably, if they were truly able to remember.

If they perceived the whole terror of their condition – if they all drank blood and cut wounds, or skinned their victims as their ancestors did with preys – none of them would dream of changing the world with pen and paper.

That is what he sees, at least, in thousands of equal dying eyes.

He watches Light work, kill. Sometimes, he laughs. What he gets in response is a glance – irritated and superior, like humans alone can be. What an arrogant, delightful plaything he found.

For each movement of his hand, swift and simple, a throat writhes in agony. But Light is far away, and doesn't care. Just like him, to be fair. He never cares.

Maybe, this little human among millions would hate it too, if he were there to touch and taste the effects of what he does. Maybe not. Few shinigami ever understood the human ways.

Maybe, on second thought, they forget this easily because they are terrified.

Whatever the truth is, they never cease to amuse him.

* * *

 _II. god_

Kira is a tremor. One of the occasional fevers that swamps their world, and claims them in small handfuls.

In the same way it was born, it is destined to pass. They don't think of that, though – their lives are too short to be anything other than foolish. They either live in fear or praise him, believing him and his ghost to be another merciless savior.

They pray to the earthquake beneath their feet. Just a little above, in the pages of their history, the very same vibration dissolves to nothing.

* * *

 _III. pastime_

He wonders if they are having fun, too, playing this overly complicated game of two. Maybe they just needed a way to kill time.

He is familiar enough with boredom to understand.

* * *

 _IV. bringer of law_

They all kneel to Kira's fame. He becomes mercy, punishment, love – upon his head, one by one, the names they give to the infinite fall like a crown.

Yet, Light is human. He cannot tell true eternity from lies coated in it.

Caught in his plans of redemption and glory, he forgets he is one of them, too.

* * *

 _V. joke_

In the short vacation Light offers him, he flies back home and tells the tale. A few eyes move in absent interest. Some roll.

Heck, it is the funniest story he has had to tell in _years_. They just cannot appreciate what is good.

Humans are definitely more creative than his lot. Maybe he likes them more.

* * *

 _VI. pawns_

Light meant to be alone.

In his plans, there was no world outside – there was his project of world, at his command, enclosed in his thoughts.

He already knew letting others in would wreck his plans. It is only near the end, brought forth by weariness and fear, that he realizes it was always meant to happen.

They couldn't be left out, after all. People love claiming their share of death.

* * *

 _VII. Mu_

It is fun to watch them both sacrifice all they have to their little game. As expected, neither dies differently from the others.

They reunite with the ground, the same destination, in that awkward, inelegant way –

– in the middle of his speech, in strenuous defense of all he had left, his name –

– covered in blood and shame, still a brilliant actor, like the ancient dark kings of their myths –

and if they knew, if they only knew, they would see how meaningless everything they have done was.

It is left to their last seconds, the task to inform them of their fate – to inform them that nothingness is faced alone, unarmed and without hope.

For it is their world, and no other, the place where they are meant to exist – it is their world that has flesh and nervous tendons, the jolt of a dark eye, all that is lively and human-like – their world is what they are condemned to see fully, in those last few seconds, like a thin ray of light that breaks into fireworks.

It is then that they perceive every colour, and hate themselves for only ever seeing the white.

If they had known somehow, if they had been told –

Nothing would change. It is no use for any of them, no exceptions.

Beyond the passage, they are no more.

* * *

 _VIII. irony_

When he dies, he is buried in secret, and not even the sky sheds a tear.

Light really doesn't expect the same to happen to him.

* * *

 _IX. eternity_

As the years move, so do the tides.

The name of Kira is a breath of wind. It travels the continents along bloodlines, mouth to mouth, crossing the oceans and the phone lines.

But the winds change with the seasons, and those, too, melt in a cycle. They fade in a blur, easily, as nature decrees. They are forgotten.

The dry leaves are swept away and fall. Not a single move of theirs, before and beyond death, can escape the timeless eyes of the universe.

The universe still doesn't watch, and says nothing.

* * *

 _X. justice_

Matsuda is old, and completely disillusioned, when he wakes up without fear for the first time.

It took the consequences a long while to fade. They aren't all gone yet – but close enough. And, although the legend still lives in its own way, he knows Kira's name is bound to follow.

He never stopped wondering what the whole ordeal was for. In what way it was worth it, and wasn't, to give the world a different face for a short time. He has tested his whole life, silently, since the moment he saw the truth unravel under his shots.

That is the other reason that makes this day special. He falls back on the mattress, maybe relieved, maybe disappointed. For sure, completely helpless.

He could never understand what was right and wrong. Today, he knows the answer.

And he knows there is none.

* * *

 _There are many, many aspects of this manga that stuck with me. It'd take much more than a single one-shot to explore them. What I loved the most, however, is how it slaps the meaninglessness of it all in our faces.  
_ _Even so, although meaningless, our little life is worth something to us – we had better make the most of it while we can._


End file.
